Yeouicheon Lord Bukgung Ah.Her sharply defined features were as pale as snow.

    Leaning lazily against a chunk of marble debris, her long legs stretched out in front of her, exuding an effortless sense of dominance. The arms she had loosely folded across her chest were just as well-proportioned.

    She was born with a body made for combat. Even the air around her knees shimmered faintly with kicking energy, rendering any lower-body techniques meaningless before they even began.

    Her surname was Bukgung. Sear?h the N??eFire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    She hailed from the northern territories, a place known for its bold and unrestrained warrior families. It was said her bloodline could be traced back to a noble royal lineage.

    She was one of the three most powerful Black Robes in Ipwang Fortress.

    She was known for being unable to sleep anywhere in the fortress except Wonpyeong Arena, but that wasn’t considered a particularly strange quirk.

    She had plenty of other compulsions—not to mention an absurd level of martial prowess and battlefield achievements.

    She was not a humble person.

    She carried the self-pride of a northern fortress and the vanity of a warrior king.

    She was not the type to examine other people’s martial arts manuals.

    For Yeouicheon Lord to be reading Ma Gwang-ik-ju’s technique manual—this was a rare and shocking occurrence in Ipwang Fortress.

    It meant something.

    Something bigger than just one woman’s curiosity.

    The broader situation had to be considered.

    Famine had led to widespread rebellion among the martial clans.

    The Thirteen Heavens, led by Yeo Ryeong, were rumored to be rallying the scattered forces of the land.

    The countless unorthodox sects and mid-tier martial groups forming beneath the Thirteen Heavens.

    The Eight Great Families, growing increasingly greedy as they pursued their own interests.

    The hundreds of new martial alliances emerging in opposition to Ipwang Fortress, forming their own "Murim Leagues."

    And then—the fallen.

    The White Robes, Blue Robes, and even some Black Robes of Ipwang Fortress dying alone, surrounded by enemies.

    As the chaos of the world dragged on, the robes of Ipwang Fortress grew worn and faded.

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